Ivan Illich – Forging Ploughshares

William T. Cavanaugh: Recovering The Body of Christ from the Modern Nation State

Ivan Illich and William Cavanaugh both describe the development of the modern nation state as a displacement of the church by the state. Illich traces the first step in this transformation as occurring within the Catholic Church, as it transformed itself into “an independent, legally constituted, bureaucratically organized state exercising a dominion of an entirely new kind over the lives of the faithful.”[1] The institutionalization of Christian charity, fellowship, and love, had the effect of assigning a divine-like status to bureaucracy, church-law, priest and pope, such that the Christian suspension of the weight of the law becomes instead, a divinizing of the law, which through history is shifted to the powers of state.

Cavanaugh provides a case study of this development with the Church in Chile, where the responsibility and reality once assigned to the church become the domain of State in shaping peoples’ lives. The divisions between soul and body, State and society, politics and religion, effectively assigned predominance to the State. Inasmuch as the Eucharist joins Christians to the body of Christ shaping the life and mind of communicants, the State, through coercive measures such as torture, took over this Eucharistic power.

Cavanaugh shows “how torture works to discipline an entire society into an aggregate of fearful and mutually distrustful individuals” functioning as the State liturgy in Chile, in disciplining the population. [2] “Torture is liturgy – or, perhaps better said, ‘anti-liturgy’ – because it involves bodies and bodily movements in an enacted drama which both makes real the power of the state and constitutes an act of worship of that mysterious power.”[3] Just as the body of Christ transforms human imagination, so too the state (in co-opting the church), can shape and discipline human imagination in a drama of its own making. Rather than divinization and salvation, the state both produces and controls the “enemy” through torture. The drama is a demonstration of the omnipotence of the state to discipline, control, and destroy the revolutionary, the subversive, or the “filth” that would oppose it.[4]

Torture atomizes the individual, destroying the connections of family, society, and church, producing the isolated individual with a singular focus (the pain of torture). In turn, the torturer functions on behalf of the state, sacrificing moral integrity in the service of the larger cause. “By focusing on their own pain and sacrifice, no matter how disproportionate to the pain of torture, torturers deny the reality of the other and confer reality on the concerns of the regime alone.”[5] The only reality that concerns torturers and their victims is that of the state, and in the process of torture this reality takes on flesh. While there is no concrete reality to the idea of state, the process of torture inscribes these ideas in the flesh. “With the demolition of the victim’s affective ties and loyalties, past and future, the purpose of torture is to destroy the person as a political actor, and to leave her isolated and compliant with the regime’s goals.”[6] In Cavanaugh’s telling, the Church in Chile is complicit in these goals, inasmuch as she relinquished the realm of the political and the body to the State.

Chile is simply a type however, of what has happened throughout the West with the rise of the modern state and what might be called modern religion, inclusive of nationalism and capitalism. He argues in Modern Theology and Political Theology, “the kinds of public devotion formerly associated with Christianity in the West never did go away, but largely migrated to a new realm defined by the nation state.”[7] It is not that in the modern secular age we do without religion, rather the enchantments of religion have been invested in the nation state. The transcendent has been traded for an idolatrous immanence. As Eugene McCarraher in, The Enchantments of Mammon similarly describes (as in the subtitle of his work) “How Capitalism Became the Religion of Modernity.”[8] “Far from being an agent of ‘disenchantment,’ capitalism, I contend, has been a regime of enchantment, a repression, displacement, and renaming of our intrinsic and inveterate longing for divinity.”[9] McCarraher and Cavanaugh suggest that, rather than disenchantment, modernity is simply “misenchantment,” with state and capital becoming the immanent frame of worship. The state and its economy become the unifying center, with the accompanying demand that its citizens be willing to sacrifice their lives for the nation as they might have once sacrificed for Christ.

In Cavanaugh’s narration of how sacrifice for the nation displaced Christian sacrifice, the “revulsion to killing in the name of religion is used to legitimize the transfer of ultimate loyalty to the modern state.”[10] The so-called “Wars of Religion” of sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Europe evoked the founding moment of modern liberalism by theorists such as John Rawls, Judith Shklar, and Jeffrey Stout. According to the liberal telling of the story,

liberalism … was born out of the cruelties of the religious civil wars, which forever rendered the claims of Christian charity a rebuke to all religious institutions and parties. If the faith was to survive at all, it would do so privately. The alternative then set, and still before us, is not one between classical virtue and liberal self-indulgence, but between cruel military and moral repression and violence, and a self-restraining tolerance that fences in the powerful to protect the freedom and safety of every citizen … [11]

In this telling, the modern state arose to keep peace among warring religious factions. The state must step in to mediate between competing religious beliefs, and the secularization of public discourse and the privatization of religion were necessary to keep religionists from slaughtering one another.

Cavanaugh maintains this telling of the story is backwards: “The ‘Wars of Religion’ were not the events which necessitated the birth of the modern State; they were in fact themselves the birth pangs of the State. These wars were not simply a matter of conflict between ‘Protestantism” and “Catholicism,’ but were fought largely for the aggrandizement of the emerging State over the decaying remnants of the medieval ecclesial order.”[12] Cavanaugh argues that “Wars of Religion” is an anachronistic misreading, as “religion” as it will come to be known – an apolitical and private sphere, and State as the proper realm of the political (and with it the embodied and public) did not exist apart from the creation of these categories through justification provided by the Wars of Religion. “The creation of religion was necessitated by the new State’s need to secure absolute sovereignty over its subjects.”[13] Gaining this sovereign control explains why the religious wars pitted co-religionists against one another (sometimes Catholics versus Catholics or Protestants versus Protestants), as it was not religion but state power that was being contested, and religion was simply a justifying backdrop in this effort.

As religion was privatized and separated from the political, the State shifted from reference to the condition of the ruler or condition of the realm (in the medieval period) to an abstract and independent political entity: “a form of public power separate from both ruler and the ruled, and constituting the supreme political authority within a certain defined territory.”[14] The result of the conflicts was an inversion of the previous ecclesial dominance over civil authorities, with the modern State dictating to the Church.

Martin Luther, Henry VIII, and Philip II, backed and insured this new arrangement. According to Luther, every Christian is subject to two kingdoms, the spiritual and the temporal. “Coercive power is ordained by God but is given only to the secular powers in order that civil peace be maintained among sinners. Since coercive power is defined as secular, the Church is left with a purely suasive authority, that of preaching the Word of God.”[15] Luther assigned coercive power (the power of the sword) to the state (picturing the state as the peacemaker), attempting to disinvest the Church from such powers. In so doing , he left no clear jurisdiction to the Church. As he writes To the Christian Nobility of the German Nation: “I say therefore that since the temporal power is ordained of God to punish the wicked and protect the good, it should be left free to perform its office in the whole body of Christendom without restriction and without respect to persons, whether it affects pope, bishops, priests, monks, nuns or anyone else.”[16]

This sensibility among both Protestants and Catholics, explains not only the case of Pinochet in Chile, but the general relegating of the religious to the private and non-political. “Because the Christian is saved by faith alone, the Church will in time become, strictly speaking, unnecessary for salvation, taking on the status of a congreganofidelium, a collection of the faithful for the purpose of nourishing the faith. What is left to the Church is increasingly the purely interior government of the souls of its members; their bodies are handed over to the secular authorities.”[17] Cavanaugh goes to great lengths in showing the Wars of Religion were actually the wars of this emerging State dominance. “The new State required unchallenged authority within its borders, and so the domestication of the Church. Church leaders became acolytes of the State as the religion of the State replaced that of the Church, or more accurately, the very concept of religion as separable from the Church was invented.”[18]

This aggravated form of Constantinianism goes beyond the early Roman Church, in that the State as guarantor of freedom and peace with final authority over the body, becomes an end in itself. Freedom in Christ and that freedom and safety secured by the State are fused, and the State is the ultimate public good, while religion is relegated to soulish goods. “Wars are now fought on behalf of this particular way of life by the State, for the defense or expansion of its borders, its economic or political interests.”[19] In the words of Immanuel Kant, thus the State can “maintain itself perpetually.”[20] For Kant, the peace and stability provided by the State is integral to his theory of right, and it would be as wrong to attempt to overthrow the State as it would be to overthrow reason.[21] So the Church in Chile serves as a type of the Church in general, in imagining it could liberate itself from political alignments with the State, it became one of many privatized groups, subject to State domination and torture.[22]

Cavanaugh’s more positive conclusion is that part of the Church in Chile gradually found a way to escape the confinement to the private and the “soul” put upon it by the State, and it was able to “body forth the life of Christ” in resistance to the liturgies of State. He describes a small segment of the Church “performing the body of Christ” as it began to reconceive itself and its relation to the State, especially in conjunction with being the body of Christ in an imagination shaped by the Eucharist.[23] “If torture is the imagination of the state, the Eucharist is the imagination of the church.”[24] It is the means of resisting the state and being conformed to Christ so as to “present your bodies as a living sacrifice” (Rom. 12:1-2). The body of Christ cannot be de-politicized, privatized or hidden (in the realm of the soul), but one must perform or do the Eucharist. The point is not simply a silent remembering, hearing, or attending, but to “Do this in remembrance of me” (Lk. 22:19) is a “literal re-membering of Christ’s body, a knitting together of the body of Christ by the participation of many in His sacrifice.”[25] “The word anamnesis had the effect not so much of a memorial, as one would say kind words about the dead, but rather of a performance.”[26] The church resists state oppression by being the body of Christ and resisting the isolating, fragmenting, discipline imposed by the state.

In the words of Justin Martyr, the Eucharist is not a common bread or drink, but just as the Word becomes incarnate so Christians are to incarnate Christ. The “food over which thanks has been given by the prayer of his word, and which nourishes our flesh and blood by assimilation, is both the flesh and blood of the incarnate Jesus.”[27] Those who participate in communion without love, with no thought for the widow and orphan, according to Ignatius, “will not admit that the Eucharist is the self-same body of our Saviour Jesus Christ which suffered for our sins, and which the Father in His goodness afterwards raised up again.”[28] Ignatius is reflecting on Matthew 25:35-36, “For I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in; naked, and you clothed Me; I was sick, and you visited Me; I was in prison, and you came to Me.” Christians are to body forth and live out His life. Those who assimilate and discern the body of Christ partake of His suffering with the weak. As Augustine reports, he heard a voice say, “I am the food of the fully grown; grow and you will feed on me. And you will not change me into you like the food your flesh eats, but you will be changed into me.”[29] By the power of His life, and the power of His body (tortured and killed and raised), His followers have a body which the powers of state, the principalities and powers, the powers of death, cannot erase or disappear.

(Register now for the course Colossians and Christology which will run from June 3rd to July 29th https://pbi.forgingploughshares.org/offerings)

[1] Though Illich wrote extensively, the ideas expressed here come toward the end of his life and were only captured in an interview recorded by David Cayley, and presented as a series of podcasts https://www.davidcayley.com/podcasts/category/Ivan+Illich, for which Cayley has provided transcripts https://www.davidcayley.com/transcripts. Paul Kennedy moderates the overall podcast, with David Cayley, commenting in both the direct conversation and explanatory asides.

[2] William Cavanaugh, Torture and Eucharist: Theology, Politics, and the Body of Christ (Oxford: Blackwell, 1998) 15.

[3] Torture, 30.

[4] Torture, 31.

[5] Torture, 36.

[6] Torture, 38.

[7] William T. Cavanaugh, Migrations of the Holy: God, State, and the Political Meaning of the Church (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011) 1.

[8] Eugene McCarraher, The Enchantments of Mammon: How Capitalism Became the Religion of Modernity. (Harvard University Press. Kindle Edition).

[9] McCarraher, 4.

[10] William T. Cavanaugh, “A Fire Strong Enough to Consume the House: The Wars of Religion and the Rise of the State,” (Modem Theology 11:4 October 1995 ISSN 0266-7177) 397.

[11] Judith Shklar, Ordinary Vices (Cambridge, Mass Harvard University Press, 1984), ρ 5. Cited in Cavanaugh, Wars of Religion, 397.

[12] Wars of Religion, 398.

[13] Ibid.

[14] Quentin Skinner, The Foundations of Modern Political Thought (Cambridge Cambridge University Press, 1978), vol II, ρ 353. Cited in Wars of Religion, 398.

[15] Wars of Religion, 399.

[16] Martin Luther, “To the Christian Nobility of the German Nation,” trans Charles M Jacobs in Three Treatises (Philadelphia Fortress Press, 1966), ρ 15. Cited in Wars of Religion, 399.

[17] Wars of Religion, 399.

[18] Wars of Religion, 408.

[19] Wars of Religion, 409.

[20] Kant, Metaphysics of Morals, 136 [326]. Cited in Wars of Religion, 409.

[21] Ralph Walker notes that Kant “clearly regards the stability of the state as an end which the Theory of Right requires us to pursue (though he does not put this in so many words, so that the contradiction with his other remarks about ends does not become obvious)” Ralph C. S. Walker, Kant (London: Routledge, 1978), p. 161. Wars of Religion, 409.

[22] Torture, 202.

[23] Torture, 253.

[24] Torture, 229.

[25] Torture, 229.

[26] Torture, 230.

[27] Justin Martyr, First Apology, 66, in The Eucharist, Message of the Fathers of the Church, no. 7, ed. Daniel J. Sheerin (Wilmington, Del.: Michael Glazier, 1986) 34. Cited in Torture, 231.

[28] Ignatius of Antioch, Epistle to the Smyrnaeans 6-7, Early Christian Writings, trans. Maxwell Staniforth (New York: Penguin Books, 1968), 121. Cited in Torture, 231.

[29] St. Augustine of Hippo, Confessions, trans. Henry Chadwick (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 124 [VII. X (16)]. Cited in Torture, 232.

The Practical Apocalypticism of Ivan Illich: How Grace and Love are Transformed by the Church into Condemning Fear

Ivan Illich (1926-2002), the Catholic priest and key critic of Catholicism and modern Christianity, describes the apocalyptic or world-changing ideas inaugurated by Christianity and demonstrates how it is that the corruption of the best (New Testament Christianity) is the worst (modern Western society). Illich, in the spirit of Kierkegaard, pictures Christianity as potentially unleashing a power for evil, first in its revolutionary remaking of the world for the good (in freedom from law and the opening to the Personal) and then in the transformation of this highest good into the worst (the lonely fear of hell and suffering under the law of conscience). “Apocalyptic,” which is not Illich’s word, captures the unmaking of the world in both its recreative and destructive phases, which also describes the deep insight of Illich’s work.

First, he describes (in a series of books) how schools inhibit learning, hospitals threaten health, and prisons aggravate crime; each professionalizes or institutionalizes caring for basic human needs, creating a symbolic buffer around direct and personal experience. Then, toward the end of his life, he conducts a series of interviews filling out his original claims in two key areas. Jesus’ introduction of love and focus on the personal, also poses the possibility of betrayal, which is the new understanding called sin. There arose however, through perversion of this freedom, by Church and society, a new interior legalism (the modern individual), a constitutive part of the modern Nation State. According to Illich, “the Church would transform itself into what a later church council called ‘a perfect society,’ an independent, legally constituted, bureaucratically organized state exercising a dominion of an entirely new kind over the lives of the faithful.” [1] In Paul Kennedy’s summation of Illich, the modern West is the result of the Roman Church’s institutionalization of the Christian gospel, not only in education, health services, and economics, but in relationships, or lack thereof, definitive of modern life. All can be traced to the Christian originals and their historical perversion.

In Illich’s description, the incarnation loads depth and weight onto the human condition, divinizing relationality and friendship, and displacing a cosmic or closed order. As in the Gospel of John, the cosmos of darkness is broken open by the light, revealing the Person beyond cosmic law. As Illich says, “I therefore believe that the Incarnation, the ensarkosis, the Greek word for the enfleshment of the biblical, the koranic, the Christian Allah represents a turning point in looking at what happens in the world. And this is an extraordinary surprise and remains a surprise.” Where in traditional society the self is constituted by the web of family and tribe, which provide exacting rules of how one is to be (even in modern Japan, in my experience, the constant refrain is “we Japanese” and all one must do is follow the formal structures – good mother, good wife, good student, etc.) the incarnation suspends the defining structure, replacing the formal with the personal. The “I” defined by the “we” simply makes the individual a particular instance of the corporate, with the law and custom buffering direct relationship, but Christ removes this buffer.

Jesus ushers in the possibility of freedom from law, custom, tribe, ethnos, and custom, replacing this binding impersonal world with love, in which ultimate meaning is embodied, fleshly, and relational. According to Illich, “If I rightly understand the point of the Gospel, it’s crucifixion. That is, Jesus, as our saviour, and also as our model, is condemned by his own people, led out of the city, and executed as somebody who has blasphemed the community’s god.” The god of the law, is displaced by God in the flesh, making ethnic identity and law relative and response to Christ absolute, with the spirit of the personal displacing the letter of the law.

Love, after Christ, is not dictated by the strictures of the society, or by the family into which one is born. “It makes it possible for me to choose anywhere whom I will love and thereby destroys or deeply threatens . . . the basis for which ethics has always been ethnos, the historically given ‘we’ which precedes any pronunciation of the word ‘I.’” With the new horizon of love however, there arises the danger of institutionalizing it: “the attempt to manage, to insure, to guarantee this love by institutionalization, by submitting it to legislation and making it law, by protecting it through the criminalization of its opposite.” Love made a duty converts it into another ethical norm or rule, rather than an unconditioned response to the personal.

The failure of love is not simply the breaking of a rule, but the betrayal of relationship, which is the new possibility of sin. “Since that moment, since this possibility of a mode of existence was created, its breakage, its denial, infidelity, turning away, coldness has acquired a meaning it could not formerly have had. Sin, as a divinely revealed possibility for Man, did not exist before this moment. Where there was no freely, arbitrarily established relationship which is a gift from the other, which is founded on a glimmer of mutuality, the possibility of its denial, of its destruction could not be thought.”

However, when the church institutionalizes hospitality, it also begins to exercise a new order of power, making its fortune off the exercise of charity. “And if you study the way in which the Church created its economic base in late antiquity, you will see that, by assuming the task of creating welfare institutions on behalf of the state, the Church’s claim to money, and practically to unlimited amounts of money because the task was unlimited, could be legally and morally funded.” Regulated charity, inhibits the inherent freedom of the personal response to the neighbor. “Something which Jesus told us about as a model of my personal freedom of choice of who will be my other (as in the story of the Good Samaritan, at the center of Illich’s description) is transformed into the use of power and money in order to provide a service.” Freedom and faith pass from the personal to institutional power, and gradually the power of the Word (made flesh) is institutionalized, and it is in this passage that Illich locates the anti-Christ – the institutionalization of sin.

“The idea that by not responding to you, when you call upon my fidelity, I thereby personally offend God is fundamental to understanding what Christianity is about. And the mystery which I’m interested in contemplating, the consequences of the perversion of faith throughout history which haunts us at the end of the twentieth century, is exactly related to my understanding of sin.” Illich is simultaneously describing the possibility for sin, and then showing how this betrayal of the personal (definitive of sin) is intrinsic to institutionalized Christianity and the institutions of State. According to Cayley, “The new possibility of personally facing one another has produced as its perversion a vast architecture of impersonal institutions all claiming, in some sense, to care. The vast engines that drive our world engines of education and health, as much as those of economic and technological development — all derive finally from a cooptation of the gospel’s promise of freedom.”

The key point, according to Illich, in the rise of an institutional faith, displacing the personal, occurs in 1075, when Pope Gregory VII issued the document “The Dictates of the Pope,” assigning legal supremacy to the Pope over all Christians and the legal supremacy of the clergy, the Pope’s emissaries, over secular authorities. The Church transformed itself into what a later council would call “a perfect society,” “an independent, legally constituted, bureaucratically organized state exercising a dominion of an entirely new kind over the lives of the faithful.”

As farming innovations (e.g., horse harnesses) allowed for settled communities around a church (rather than around fields), steeples arose and the supervision of the church over life intensified, including regular private confession to a priest (as opposed to the public confession before the congregation). In 1215, the Fourth Lateran Council proclaimed, “Every Christian will go, under penalty of going to hell otherwise, grievous sin, once a year to their own pastor and confess their sins.” The priest judges, in secret, offering forgiveness of sin, in an entirely new way, a juridical act. Both law and sin took on a new meaning, departing from Paul’s depiction of being “released from the law” as Christians live “not under law, but under grace.”

For Paul, sin was a denial of the freedom of grace, but with its transformation into a legal offense, according to Illich, a new age began: “The sense of sin of the first millennium becomes now a sense of sin as a transgression of a norm.” In the New Testament, according to Illich, sin is the denial of grace, not a legal offense, but always a personal offense against a person (an infidelity). Now the sinner stands accused before a priest who judges her transgression of Christian law. “Grace becomes juridical. Sin acquires a second side, that of the breaking of the law, which implies that in the second millennium the charity, the love of the New Testament, has become the law of the land.”

At the same time an “inner court” is taken up in human interiority. “Not only was a juridical state structure created and sin was criminalized, made into something which could be dealt with along the lines of criminal justice even if under self-accusation, but also the concept of the forum internum (internal) came up. Forum is the general word for the court in front of which you have standing.” The beginnings of modern conscience, necessary guilt and fear of punishment, displace the notion of sin as personal betrayal. Even Hamlet’s “To be or not to be” – followed by the reflection that “conscience makes cowards of us all,” reflects the new fear of hell. As Caley puts it, “This new moral solitude into which modern persons are plunged is but one aspect of a larger change that Illich sees taking place as the church tries to install the Kingdom of God as a legal regime on earth.”

In 1215 — the same gathering that pronounced the duty of annual private confession — also redefined marriage as a contract between two individuals witnessed by God. In Illich’s description, “The constitution of the union or relationship of love in its supreme form, namely commitment of a man and a woman to each other for ever on the model of the Gospel became defined as a juridical act through which an entity comes into existence which is called marriage, and for this juridical act, God becomes, so to speak, the necessary instrumentality, asking him to be present and a witness to what you say to each other, therefore using God as a juridical device.” Where Jesus had set aside swearing oaths, oaths before God in marriage and family made this contractual arrangement core to society (the beginnings of social contract). And this idea of taking oaths with God as a witness reached a new high point when the Church defined the formation of the basic cell of society, the family, as a contract entered freely and knowingly by a man and a woman, constituting a legal reality with standing in heaven.

New Testament communities were not formed on the basis of contractual obligations, but were a community gathered by Christ: “in the Eucharistic assembly, a ‘we,’ a new ‘we,’ the plural of the ‘I’ was established which was not of this world, of politics in the Greek sense.” It was a community of the Spirit, sealed by the kiss of a shared breath or spirit. “The Christians adopted this symbolism to signify that each one of those present around the dining table contributed of his own, spirit of, if you want, the Holy Spirit, which was common to all, to create a spiritual community, a community of one spirit, before they sat down and shared the same meal, the Eucharist.” No longer would hierarchy, ethnic or sexual identity be determinate. “It gave to those who participated at the ceremony the idea that community can come into existence outside of or other than the community into which I was born and in which I fulfill my legal obligations, in which all those who are present equally share in the act of its establishment.”

Gradually citizenship in this alternative community became regulated. “And by the tenth century, the mode of performing this ceremony changed. The priest, instead of sharing the peace with everybody, kissed the altar as though he were taking something from the altar which stands for Christ, and then handing it down to the others.” The kiss moved into the background as did its spiritual (conspiratsio) significance, so that “during the thirteenth, fourteenth and fifteenth centuries an instrument was developed called an osculatorium, a kissing object . . . which the priest kisses after he has kissed the altar and hands down to the community.” The symbolic is replaced by the embodied (and interpersonal) in a very literal fashion. “The breathing together of the spirit in the conspiratsio becomes the swearing together of citizens in the social contract that will eventually define the modern state.”

As Cayley puts it, “When the Roman Church adopted the rule of law, Ivan Illich claims, it laid down many of the tracks within which modern society would run. Conscience, as the inner imprint of the fear of judgement, and contract, as an oath sworn with God as a witness, are both ideas that will become crucial for the modern nation-state.” With Protestantism threatening, the Roman Catholic Church at the Council of Trent, presented itself “as a law-based church whose laws were obligatory for the citizens in conscience.” The pronouncements of Trent, Illich thinks, finalized the perversion of the original beloved community: “Through this criminalization of love perverted . . . the basis was created for the new way of feeling citizenship as a command of my conscience, for the possibility of the state to claim raison d’etat, as guideline for its legislation which is obligatory in conscience, parallel to the Church’s ability to confuse church law and doctrine, or to diminish, abolish, make permeable the frontier between what is true and what is commanded.”

The modern individual interiorizes subjection to the law and as his own judge “is alone in a new and unprecedented way. As the subject of an internalized Christian law, he no longer enjoys that free, trusting, unmediated relationship with God and other people” which marked the New Testament community. “The criminalization of sin generating the idea of conscience also obscures the fact that the answer to sin is contrition and mercy, and that therefore, for him who believes in sin, there is also a possibility of celebrating as a gift beyond full understanding the fact that he’s being forgiven.” The possibility of contrition, forgiveness, and sweet acceptance are obscured by the legal conception of sin and self.